


Scraps

by KnifeofIce



Category: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 12:13:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1510046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnifeofIce/pseuds/KnifeofIce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BOOKSHOP AU-- Suyama is the owner of a local little bookshop. His thoughts on his newest regular.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scraps

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is meant to accompany [Hidden Treasure](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1292764) as a sequel.

Hanai coming around the bookshop twice, three times a week started to become a regular occurrence. The shop had opened fairly recently, and so Suyama was still in the process of advertising. As much as he enjoyed his job and was thrilled that he finally opened his own bookstore, it did get a bit lonely in the stacks as he arranged new shipments on the shelves with only a few customers a day; Hanai's presence was a welcome way to break up the monotony. 

Whenever he came around, there seemed to be no end of topics for them to discuss: current events, the latest novel sitting on the display, older books they had been wanting to re-read...and the list went on. Hanai appeared to have a slight competitive streak to him--Suyama noticed that he always had a rare book that he had read recently to counter the owner's recent literary escapades. Suyama usually came out on top in those "discussions"...he had greater access to a wider variety of titles, after all. 

That was another thing. As soon as Hanai was started on a book he had read recently, his eyes lit up and his whole demeanor changed. His excited chatter brightened the room and the atmosphere seemed lighter, like he was more in his element. His smile was nice when he was like that, the owner caught himself thinking. Suyama couldn't help but marvel at how he would never have expected someone like Hanai to be so enamored with literature. He wasn't usually one to stereotype, but the teacher looked like the type that wouldn't be so interested in the subject, if his experience with other guys his age was anything to go by. It was refreshing, in a way. 

As basically his only regular customer thus far, they had a sort of schedule set up. Hanai would drop by after work and they would talk while Suyama stocked shelves or took inventory. Sometimes Hanai even helped--he was a few centimeters taller, just enough to reach the top shelf on his tiptoes so Suyama didn't have to get his step stool. 

One day, they ended up leaning on the front counter (in case other customers came) like usual, hours into a conversation, when Hanai happened to check his watch. 

"Ah...sorry, I have to get home and grade essays." 

"The downside of being a lit teacher. I could help you if you wanted," Suyama offered, only half kidding. "You always help me out here at the shop." 

"I can't let you do that, they're student's papers," he started, grabbing his messenger bag and swinging it over a shoulder with a small grunt of effort. "I'm the only one supposed to grade them and besides, they were probably written with the intention of being seen by me only," he replied, tone taking on something authoritative that Suyama had never heard before--the voice of a teacher that knew how to take control of his classroom. 

Suyama blinked a few times at that response, elbow on the counter and chin in his hand, and a light laugh escaped him. "You're so earnest. But that's what I like about you." 

When the words left his mouth though, he realized how...well, how easily what he said could be misconstrued. He fought the blush back from his face that was burning the tips of his ears. 

Soon after that, Hanai hurriedly took his leave, cheeks pink, and Suyama vaguely wondered if he had meant what he said any other way after all. 

However Hanai interpreted what the bookshop owner said didn't seem to faze him much. The next day, Suyama heard a "Hello?" called into the shop. "Ah, good afternoo--" he began, poking his head out from the back room. He was met by a warm smile as Hanai looked up from the shelf he was browsing. What if he thought I was coming on to him? What if he doesn't come back because I was so careless? Anyone would be driven away by saying something so bold. These thoughts repeated themselves over and over in his head the entire day before that, weighing down on him. Suyama felt a light flutter in his chest, temporarily captivated by the other's expression. A sense of relief washed over him. He actively calmed himself down before smiling back, coming out of the office area to greet the other normally. 

Suyama had a much larger personal collection of books than Hanai had, and though it might not have been the best thing for his business, he began to lend them to the literature teacher. He made the mistake of returning one with a bookmark advertising a magical girl anime left inside. Hanai had had to stutter out an explanation that it was the first thing he grabbed when he was at school to mark his page after the bell rang--all to Suyama's failed attempts to hold in laughter. He had never seen someone's face flush so red in embarrassment. 

After that, it became a bit of a game. When Suyama handed over a new book, Hanai would wait until he got back to his small apartment before opening the cover to find a folded up sheet of paper, printed with a piece of art that the other liked, or the cover art of another book they had talked about. Hanai would use it as his bookmark for the whole time he borrowed the title. Then, when it was time to return the book, he placed it along with the others in a corner of his desk, forming a small collection. 

Suyama would open his returned book after the store closed and find random things left in there--ticket stubs to recent movies, an album cover insert for a band the other liked, a quote he particularly liked, and one time, a doodle that a student drew, making fun of his teacher. Sometimes he left the bookmark on a particular page--one that struck Hanai for some reason or other. It was up to Suyama to guess which part and why. A fond smile would sneak its way onto his lips as he filed away the information he gleaned from these interesting scraps. He too had a smile pile of these mementos gathering on his kitchen counter. They made for interesting spring points in future conversations--conversations more about Hanai himself. 

Suyama found himself charmed by the other's sincerity and dedication to his career. He was always looking for ways to liven up his lessons, trying to instill his own love for literature into his students. He would solicit Suyama for ideas sometimes, agonizing over how many students dozed off in his last class. Box of new arrivals in his arms, Suyama would reassure the other that no, not many people were like them that actually enjoyed reading and analyzing literary works. And, of course, that didn't mean that he was a failure of a teacher or that they were terrible students. As simple as it was to say, it seemed to soothe his insecurities, and Suyama would switch topics to focus on something that would cheer him up. 

"Thanks...for always listening to me," he muttered today, suddenly finding the floor interesting. Suyama thought he could make out a slight pink tinge to his cheeks, but it was difficult to tell with his head down in shadow. 

There was something slightly off about the whole day. Maybe it was the gloomy weather, black clouds leaving the alley the shop was located in in darkness. Maybe it was the loneliness of not having a single person stop by all day until now. Maybe it was because Hanai, for the first time since he initially set foot in the shop, said he had to go almost as soon as he came. Maybe it was because after Suyama's latest attempt to encourage him, Hanai still seemed upset. Or was it distracted? The other excused himself after carefully placing a book--one of Suyama's--on the counter. Before he could even tell the other to be careful in what would be the eventual downpour, the door closed with the light jingle of the bell on the frame. 

It was all quite strange and their exchange had none of the easiness they had achieved between them. He picked through his recent interactions and tried to think of something off-putting that he may have said and honestly couldn't remember anything of the sort. Suyama simply shrugged it off and hoped it was because Hanai had had a bad day and nothing more. 

Later that evening, he came back to the solitude of his one-bedroom apartment, eyes trailing over to the refrigerator, on which was a small business card with a hastily scribbled phone number. He wondered if he would ever have the courage to actually dial it. With a small smile to himself, he picked up the book that sat on his kitchen table where he had placed it before undoing his raincoat--the most recently returned. He stuck a fingernail in the small gap between the pages that he figured was created by another of Hanai’s goofy bookmarks and flipped the book open. Suyama wondered what kind of quote the other had left him to ponder on the page he opened to. 

This time though, was different. No colors popped out from a small piece of cardboard stock or paper. Instead, with a blush making its way across his face, he stared at the white index card on which was neatly written, “Dinner?”


End file.
